Thinking of You
by PeetoLove
Summary: Songfic, AU- Peeta lost Cato in the games, and has to learn how to cope without to one person who kept him sane. Even if it means cutting himself, using Gale as his own personal toy and insanity.


_**THINKING OF YOU – Peeta's P.O.V**_

_Comparison's are easily done_

_Once you've had a taste of perfection_

_like an apple hanging from a tree_

_I pick the ripest one I still got the seeds_

Gale kicked the bedroom door open with his foot, his hands never leaving my skin. He touched me tenderly and gently, but still nothing compared to how Cato could ever make me feel with a single brush of the hand or smile. Cato... Yet again I'm comparing Gale to him. Of course, Cato was my first love. I could say my only love, but what a horrible betrayal of Gale that would be. There's something about a first love though... Something new and fresh. Like the first day of Spring, how everything feels flawless.

_You said move on _

_where do I go? _

_I guess, Second best _

_is all I will know..._

Cato told me to move on. Forget him once he died in the games. I couldn't. I never believed I could. He told me to find someone else who would treat me just as well. But how could I find someone who's kisses were just as sweet? Whose eyes sparkled as much when they saw me? Gale was amazing, but... He just couldn't sum up to Cato.

_Because when I'm with him I am _

_thinking of you, thinking of you_

_What you would do if you were the one who was _

_spending the night, spending the night_

_Oh I wish that I was looking into your eyes..._

I'm snapped out of my thoughts When Gale presses me against the bed, his lips trailing against my skin. _His_ skin. Property that had to be given up. This happens every time he spends the night with me. My thoughts are flooded by him. And I don't even picture Gale as Gale. I picture him as the lost love the Capitol stripped from my life.

_You're like an Indian Summer _

_In the middle of Winter_

_Like a hard candy_

_with a surprise center_

Gale pulls of my pants in one swift motion and shoots a sweet smile up at me. He's hurt. I'm sure of it. He's known for so long... I snap my eyes shut, because I can't stand that sad smile.

"Just do it!" I yell, my nails digging into the bed. I hear a sigh, but he continues, peeling each garment off one by one until there's nothing left.

_How do I get better_

_Once I've had the best_

_You said there's tons of fish in the water _

_So the waters I will test_

I feel his lips encase around me, a sensation now so familiar to me. My hands tangle in his hair while I yell out in pleasure, the main reason I have Gale. Because pleasure can occasionally help me forget the events that took place in the arena. I had to find someone to help me, and he... He was the best choice.

_He kissed my lips_

_I taste your mouth_

_He pulled me in_

_I was disgusted with myself _

Gale leaves my lower half and entraps my lips in a kiss, where I let out a soft moan.

"Cato..." I let slip out as he pulls away. I couldn't help pretending. Gale was just so easy to make into Cato if your eyes were closed. Defined muscles, tall strong build. Sometimes even the way he whispers to me reminds me of Cato...

He wrapped his arms around me, my legs wrapped around his waist. He's alright with me calling him Cato, so I do it. He kisses me softly once more, not finishing me and rolling off of me.

"Goodnight." he says, not looking at me again before drifting to sleep. Tonight must be a sensitive night.

_Because when I'm with him I am _

_thinking of you, thinking of you_

_What you would do if you were the one who was _

_spending the night, spending the night_

_Oh I wish that I was looking into your..._

I curl up in a ball on my side, silently crying to myself. I wish he was here. I wish it was him holding me. I wish I got to see his smile again, and not some pictures his family was planning to throw out anyway. I know I can't, but I like to pretend I can. Secretly, it's driven me insane. I call his phone some nights and leave messages I know can never be read by him. I have conversations aloud like he's standing right next to me. I know it isn't healthy, but it's all I can do to keep from suicide...

_You're the best, and yes I do regret_

_How I could let myself let you go_

_Now the lesson's learned, I touched and I was burned. _

_I think you should know..._

I drape a blanket over myself and walk teary eyed into he guest room I've littered with memories of him. Pictures, items of clothing, letters. Some of them aren't even my memories. But when I see them, I see him. Holding me in his arms, telling me he loved me. The kisses he left on my cheek, and the bruises he left from all the kisses. I smile in remembrance.

"Cato..." I whisper, brushing a hand over a picture of him in the training center with Clove. She has an annoyed look on her face, and he has the usual stupid grin.

On the bed I find his sword. I begged them to let me keep it. I won the games with it. I couldn't with anything else. I lift it and still see the blood from Katniss' chest. It makes me feel sick, but I enjoy having the sword in my home.

_Because when I'm with him I am _

_thinking of you, thinking of you_

_What you would do if you were the one who was _

_spending the night, spending the night_

_Oh I wish that I was looking into your..._

_your eyes, looking into your eyes looking into your eyes..._

I sigh and draw another mark in my skin with the still sharp blade. "Another night without you, hero." I mutter to myself, smiling at the burning pain. He'd hate seeing me do this, but truthfully, it reminds me I'm not trapped in some terrible nightmare. The pain reminds me it's real. It's all fucking real and I hate every second of it.

_Won't you barge in the door and_

_Take me away_

_No more mistakes_

_Because in your eyes I'd like to stay..._

I force myself to pull the sword away from my skin, leaving it to bleed. The victory tour's tomorrow. I'll have to fake being alive and well for a whole two weeks. And I'll have to visit the place he was born. I remind myself to leave a simple red rose on his grave. His favorite.

I pull the final picture taken of him off a shelf. The night of the interviews, someone got their hands on a picture of us together, right before he kissed me. It looks like something you'd see on the cover of a shitty romance novel, and that's why I love it so much. It's so _us_.

"Cato..." I whisper to the picture, as if it would jump alive and he'd save me form living this hell. "My Cato..."


End file.
